LeSane
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Everything posted by LeSane
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vampire Vampire The Masquerade| Seeking writers
LeSane posted a Bulletin Post in Private Roleplayers Bulletin Board
For those who don't know, Vampire: The Masquerade, or VTM for short, is a tabletop role-playing game first published in 1991. It’s part of a larger series called the "World of Darkness." In this game, players take on the roles of vampires—called "Kindred"—who secretly exist in the modern world. If you've seen movies like Queen of the Damned, Blade (sorta), and other franchises that seem close to what this setting is about. I'm looking to write as my character, Jermia Townsend, a kindred of the clan Ministry, or formerly known as Setities, for the well-informed. I'm looking for a writer who knows the basics at the very least. If interested, please send me a message, and we can discuss an idea we both enjoy.-
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From the album: Jermia Townsend
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This is Jermia Townsend, a recently Embraced Vampire: The Masquerade character, having joined the ranks of the Kindred just six weeks ago. He resides in Queens, New York, and is part of a coterie of four ancillae known as 'The Book Club.' As the youngest member, Jermia struggles to earn his peers' respect. Frequently threatened and belittled, he is routinely tasked with handling modern technology—an area where the older vampires often falter. Jermia was embraced by a Neonate named Kalila. After Kalila's arrest, she was captured by hunters and left to perish in a sunlit cell. Now, lacking any clan guidance or support, Jermia must navigate his clan, The Ministry, alone and tread carefully to survive in the treacherous world of New York's Kindred society. Being a member of The Ministry further complicates his unlife. The Ministry’s reputation for subversion, temptation, and manipulation makes other Kindred wary and distrustful. Many in Kindred society see Ministry members as dangerous influences, often isolating or undermining them. For Jermia, every social interaction is a test of loyalty and subtlety, as he must constantly prove his intentions while avoiding the suspicion and animosity that comes with his clan’s infamous legacy.
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From the album: Jermia Townsend
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From the album: Jermia Townsend
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Sathaniel fought the urge to roll his eyes as the goblin dismissed the name of the Silver Mistress, but he kept his expression measured—maintaining the mask of a patient priest. He had chosen that particular goddess precisely for her obscurity, knowing that anyone attempting to verify his story would face a labyrinth of research and dead ends. He shifted his weight, making his tone gentle but purposeful. “The guards decided it was best if a cleric tried to reason with you. Honestly, at least one of them is hoping I fail.” He paused, letting his gaze drift to the side, then back to Sazza. She would remember the figure he referred to: the tense, yellow-skinned tiefling who had been left cradling a crossbow only minutes earlier—her anger barely contained until her companion convinced her to stand down. “She believes you’re to blame for her brother’s death,” Sathaniel continued, his voice steady and free of accusation, watching for Sazza’s reaction. When Sazza asked if he could free her, Sathaniel wore the same serene expression, but his words were carefully chosen, each one probing the fault lines of the camp’s anxiety. “You know, the whole grove is on edge right now,” he said softly, almost as if confiding in her. “They’re convinced the moment you’re free, every goblin from your camp will come crashing down on their heads. Some think your death would calm their nerves—at least for a time—but even that is just a temporary salve.” He let the silence stretch, watching her reactions, before continuing in that same measured, almost priestly patience. “If I were to help, I’d need more than a good story. Right now, if I even look like I’m helping you, they’ll brand me another one of those... what do they call them? True Souls. Fanatics. Not a popular crowd from what they let on.”
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From the album: Jermia Townsend
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From the album: Jermia Townsend
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From the album: Jermia Townsend
Ministry Vampire -
From the album: Jermia Townsend
Trying to be sexy -
From the album: Jermia Townsend
Casual wear -
—Bump
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Cyberpunk | The Gig: Severance Packag
LeSane commented on LeSane's bulletin post in Private Roleplayers Bulletin Board
Sure thats fine with me. You can message me if you want to discuss ideas. -
DOOM - The Whore of Hell - [JennyDK & LeSane]
LeSane replied to JennyDK's topic in Canon Clash.'s OOC and roleplays
The Marauder stood with an air of indifference, his expression revealing little to the Slayer's probing questions. She had expected this reaction; after all, the Marauder's legion had turned their backs on Hell's forces to align themselves with their sworn enemy. "We have enough numbers to make a substantial contribution to your cause," he declared, his voice deep and commanding. With a snap of his fingers, the cacophony that had filled the main area faded into an eerie silence. The heavy thud of boots echoed down the corridor as two figures approached the room where the Doom Slayer and the Marauder stood. When the door creaked open, two imposing shapes loomed in the doorway—lesser Hell Knights, their hulking frames casting long shadows across the floor. They stood at attention, their expressions grim, as if awaiting a command they had long prepared for. These Hell Knights were unlike any she had encountered before. They lacked the typical visible eyes found on most demons. Yet it was evident they possessed keen perception, able to track movements and detect presence in ways that made them equally formidable and unsettling. "The two before you are just a small representation of my legion," the Marauder continued, his voice resonating with a low rumble. "Feel free to inspect them if you wish." Despite his invitation, the Slayer remained silent, her thoughts racing as she pondered the true intent behind their presence. The doubt that plagued her mind led her to believe that they had ulterior motives. With the door still open, the Marauder turned to leave, the weight of his armor creaking softly as he moved. The metal door slid shut behind him with a heavy clank, trapping the Slayer in the dimly lit room with the two massive demons, who stood resolutely on either side. They awaited her command, their presence a reminder of the ever-fascinating yet dangerous alliance that hung in the air. -
Bumping again—
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Bump due to interest—
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DOOM - The Whore of Hell - [JennyDK & LeSane]
LeSane replied to JennyDK's topic in Canon Clash.'s OOC and roleplays
She spoke the truth: the demons had overrun Earth with relative ease, and if not stopped, they would likely reduce the human population to nothing more than shambling undead. The Slayer could be reasoned with, even if just to discuss upcoming plans. The demon realized she had brought him to her inner sanctum as they entered the adjacent room. The entrance featured a big wooden barrel filled with dangerous-looking medieval weaponry. This immediately sets the tone for the room, hinting at the Slayer's brutal past and her readiness for battle. The walls are adorned with trophies and artifacts from battles against demons, showcasing victories and the history of her ongoing and relentless fight. They are also lined with demon skulls and other macabre decorations that serve as grim reminders to the demon in question that, right now, they are not allies. Even if the monster did not physically show it, he was relieved that his head would not be mounted upon the wall, though that could change if he didn't care. Despite the harsh and militaristic aesthetic, there are still glimpses of her past life, such as photos or mementos that reflect her humanity before the endless war against demons. The overall color scheme is dark and gritty, with shades of green and gray that mirror the combat armor and the hellish environments she often navigates. The demon continued to look around before refocusing its attention on the Slayer. "My legion will not wage war in your name without compensation. What are you willing to offer to keep them engaged? If you cannot provide anything valuable, they will unlikely follow for very long."- 9 replies
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- size difference
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It was easy to see that the goblin was telling a blatant lie, but he found her amusing nonetheless, so he let her continue her tall tale about casing out the druid's grove and claiming to be some incredible agent. The Aasimar realized that among the many goblins, she was likely blessed by Shiallia, a minor fertility deity. That thought reminded him of Dharn; the overly analytical man would doubtfully go on about such a discovery. When she asked him why he was there and pointed out that he didn't look like the others, he could only chuckle at the observation. "Very observant! I'm a priest of the Silver Mistress," he replied, maintaining the guise of a priest. Admitting to Sazza that he was a thief might cause issues later. "I came to them for supplies, but it seems they have guests," he added, nodding toward the tieflings and wondering if she had any idea why they seemed so on edge.
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Dragon's Ire
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I'm bumping this since I feel like seeing if this gets interest.
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The original plan had been to go together to the druid's grove due to the lack of supplies. Yet, Dharn, with his pomp and circumstance, had weaved a tale that if he were to go into their grove, they'd undoubtedly see his power as a threat. Hence, he elected not to go, and as for their barbarian, both of them knew better than to allow him to speak for the group as the last time he'd volunteered, they weren't allowed ever talk to the guild for another few months as being excommunicated until their punishment was served. So it was up to Sathaniel, their rogue, to walk up to the gate while the other two men awaited within a crypt a short jaunt away. It was different than before. As it seemed, they created a gate the last time coming, so as the Aasamir stood there waiting, he could see the head of a tiefling look over the edge and shout, "What your business here?" there was a moment of pause before making an audible 'tsk' sound, as he wasnt to keen on the devil touched spawn. Yet, if he wanted entry, he'd have to play nice. Putting on his best face and the guise of a priest, he looked up and said."I follow the word of the Silver Mistress, Shinare, and I've come seeking supplies because my group is too wounded to come themselves." Most decent people relented when it came to those in dire straights, and Sath was good at tugging at heartstrings. He stood there, preening his wings with his hands while waiting for the tiefling, keeping his eyes up on occasion to see if they'd come back. When the gate opened, the aasimar would mutter under his breath, 'About fucking time.' before strolling inside to meet those within. One thing was evident from the rambles of those who came to question him. They didn't belong here, and the druids were upset about something, no doubt about them. A druid asked him to stay within the makeshift jail as the rest of their circle were already on edge. "Fine. I'll wait until my supplies are gathered and be on my way," he said while escorted by one of the refugees. Once inside, he spied a lone goblin in a cage but said nothing at first as they directed him inside, though not putting him in a cell, and told him to wait. "It's rare to see one of your kind alone, even more so alive." folding his arms and looking smugly at Sazza, his ichor-colored eyes staring down since she was so much shorter than him.
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- interspecies
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Stripping off
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Garbage shoot
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Erotic Hyperbolic
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Failed Electrician